


All Quiet Over Vulcan Space

by notfreyja, Straight_Outta_Hobbiton



Series: Doubt The Stars [12]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Destruction of Vulcan, I'm Sorry, M/M, Minor Character Death, Presumed Dead, The Narada Incident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-17 00:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8123920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notfreyja/pseuds/notfreyja, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Straight_Outta_Hobbiton/pseuds/Straight_Outta_Hobbiton
Summary: There's a particularly troubled Romulan out for Vulcan blood. All Jim can hope for is that he can get as much of his family out of this alive... and maybe save the world.If he can do it without ruining his marriage, that would almost be a miracle.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The playlist for this fic can be found [here.](https://8tracks.com/starhobbit/all-quiet-over-vulcan-space#smart_id=dj:16203706&play=1)
> 
> Follow [not-freyja](https://not-freyja.tumblr.com) and [straight-outta-hobbiton](https://straight-outta-hobbiton.tumblr.com) on Tumblr.

“How the hell did that kid beat your test?”

 

Spock can hear the accusations in Pike’s voice, implications of nepotism, that he had shared the answer with his bondmate. Before he can rile to his own or Jim’s defense, Pike continues.

 

“I swear to God, that little shit is going to make me hand over my ship to him.”

 

“Excuse me, Captain, but I do not understand.”

 

Christopher laughs. “Doesn’t matter, Spock. Just something I said a long time ago.”

 

It’s been four years of acquaintanceship. At this point, Spock knows better than to ask.

  
  


*.*

  
  


When Jim gets home from his night class, the house is exactly as it should be. He can hear Gaila’s music playing from upstairs and her and Uhura’s laughter. He walks through the living room, trying his best to say out of the way of the holoplayer. Bones and Pasha are watching some DeForrest Kelley western. 

 

“Where’s Hikaru?”

 

Chekov smirks. “Staying home. He and Ben are having date night.”

 

“He tell you that?”

 

“No,” the Russian grins, “but he spent an extra long time on his hair this afternoon.”

 

Jim laughs his way out of the room, almost walking into the wall on his way into the kitchen. That is where he finds Spock, perfectly poised on a counter stool, intently studying a PADD as though it contains the secrets of the universe.

 

“Hey, sweetheart.”

 

No response.

 

Curious, Jim slides up next to him and peaks over. His husband is going over code.  _ Familiar code.  _

 

He chews his lip for a moment. “What are you working on?”

 

“I am grading your solution to the  _ Kobayashi Maru _ .”

 

Oh shit.

 

“How’d I do?”

 

Spock tilts his head slightly. “From a purely academic standpoint, you cheated. However, from a psychological view, you followed the most logical and efficient path to success.” 

 

“I’m in trouble.”

 

“I think you need to submit a supplemental essay to Captain Pike.”

 

“I’m not in trouble?”

 

A glint of amusement enters into Spock’s eyes. Jim breathes a sigh of relief. He’s off the hook.

 

“Compose an argumentative paper explaining why you altered the code, and how it constitutes a passing grade. I believe that will be enough to avoid penalty.”

 

“Awesome!” Jim kisses Spock’s cheek and then scoops up his bag, darting off to get started. He’s going to need some help with this. 

 

That’s alright. He’s been meaning to talk to Number One anyway.

  
  


*.*

 

When Pike receives Kirk’s paper, he's almost angry at how flawless it is.

 

The boy's thoughts are written out, more cleanly and precise than he ever knew they could be. He goes on and on about how a Captain's duty is not to the mission or the ship, but his crew. That the crew should be saved by any means necessary, whether that be abandoning mission, self sacrifice, or even rewriting a few lines of coding on a test.

 

He even has sources.

 

The longer Chris stares at it the more flawless it gets, right down to every comma. He has no choice but to pass the kid. And then it hits him. He knows that grammar. Jim went and got help.

 

Number One is sleeping on the couch tonight.

  
  


*.*

  
  


In the end, Chris decides he's just going to have to trust Commander Spock’s psychological evaluation (and if he can’t trust  _ him _ when it comes to Jim’s mental state, then there’s no hope) and give the kid a pass.

 

He’s just about to go and tell the bastard when his aide runs in.

 

“Captain Pike, there’s a distress call from Vulcan. Admiralty wants all ships in the air!”

 

If Chris does his math right, that means that each ship will be short staffed. That is, unless the ‘fleet poaches from the Academy. Which, considering it’s not every day that a planet-wide distress call goes out, they probably will.

 

His decision is practically made for him. Looks like Spock is going to be his first officer after all. Number One is on Medical leave. And where Spock goes, Jim has to follow.

 

He’ll put him in Engineering.

  
  


*.*

 

When the comms simultaneously chirp, everyone pauses. That’s definitely odd. They had all been eating lunch, atmosphere pseudo-tense as they waited for the gavel to fall on Jim’s  _ Kobayashi Maru _ solution.

 

So yeah, the entirety of Jim’s adoptive family had been sitting around the kitchen, waiting. Uhura and Gaila trying valiantly to reassure him, Bones grumbling about how Pike would be an idiot to fail him, Chekov practically vibrating with tension. Spock and Sulu sat as twin gargoyles. But when all the communicators chime in unison for the second they all go still.

 

A third, and the entire room moves to answer as one.

  
  


*.*

 

They’re going into space. They’re going into space  _ today,  _ on active duty. Jim’s so excited he almost starts laughing. The only thing that stops him is the stress he can feel coming in waves from Spock.

 

Right. Vulcan.

 

_ It’ll be fine.  _ Jim thinks as they hurry to the hangars to receive their assignments. Whatever the crises is, Starfleet can handle it. Especially if they’re sending so many ships that the graduating class is going.

  
  


*.*

 

Jim’s going on the  _ Enterprise. _ He’s just going to be an engineer, but still, the  _ Enterprise _ ! Pike’s his Captain and it’s like he’s five years old again but better because this time he’s in a real uniform and his husband’s on the bridge and his best friend is in Medical. Not to mention that Sulu, Chekov, and Uhura are on the ship as well. The only one missing is Gaila, and that doesn’t matter.

 

He can have her transferred when he’s Captain.

 

The ship jumps to warp a few seconds after it was supposed to and suddenly Jim’s whole world narrows to machinery. Keeping the core from becoming an atomic bomb is simple enough on paper. In reality, it is an intricate dance of fine tuning and luck that takes all of his attention. At this rate the whole mission will be over before he can blink.

  
  


*.*

  
  


In the peripheral of his awareness, Jim can hear Pavel speaking over the ship wide intercom. It’s all mission parameters, and exact dates at times, and none of it really  _ matters _ to him right now because he’s got a job to do damn it and this core is brand new.

 

“...lightning storm in space…”

 

Those words cut through his tunnel vision in the strangest way. He doesn’t know why, but those words are  _ important.  _ Like, life-or-death important he just can’t remember why.

 

And then it clicks.

 

Without so much as a moment’s hesitation, Jim abandons his post and sprints for the nearest turbolift. He has to get to the bridge. 

 

This isn’t going to be another  _ Kelvin.  _ It can’t be.

 

He won’t  _ let  _ it be.

  
  


*.*

  
  


When Pike orders the shields up, Jim has never loved him more. And then they drop out of warp, and directly into a scrapyard above Vulcan.

 

Scratch that — a  _ graveyard _ .

 

A graveyard that, going by the insurmountable volume of wreckage, probably contains all of the ships Starfleet just sent to Vulcan.

 

Gaila is out there. The instant he thinks it, Jim knows that she’s dead, that he’s never going to see his sister again, and it _hurts._ He can feel Spock trying to calm him, projecting hope and sympathy, but Kirk pushes it away. He doesn’t want it. He wants to scream, to punch the walls, to cry. He needs to ask Pike if he’s done the math too, if he knows that she’s gone, if he _cares._

 

But Jim never gets the chance. Debris drifts, and suddenly they’re being fired upon.

 

Jim forces Gaila to the back of his mind. He has the rest of his family on this ship here with him, and he can’t afford to mourn. Not yet.

 

And he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping for a miracle.

  
  


*.*

  
  


Pike is going over to that ship, alone, unarmed, and with no illusions as to his chances of survival. They throw together a slapdash plan on the walk to the hangar that involves Jim and two other idiots going sky diving into a firefight.

 

His only reassurance is that Jim might just be crazy enough to pull it off.

 

So he makes a sudden field promotion, and Spock’s the Captain now, and Jim’s his first, and neither of them say anything but Spock’s eyebrows almost reach his hairline and Kikr hugs him so hard Chris is afraid he might disarticulate a vertebrae.

 

That kid knows the odds. He’s always been too smart for his own good.

 

Chris wants to lie to him. He wants to hold him close and tell him everything would be okay. To say that it was an easy mission, in and out, that Jimmy would barely noticed he’d gone. But he can’t do that anymore. James stopped believing in those lies when he was seven.

 

So Pike just gets on the shuttle and goes. His daughter is probably dead. His son - and  _ yes _ Jim is his son, if only in his head - is going on a suicide mission. His crew might not make it through the day. And here he was, going to his certain death-via-torture.

 

Today is a shitty day.

 

But it reassures him somewhat that he left the ship in the hands of Jim and Spock. Those two may be crazy, but they’re a good team.

 

The shuttle leaves the hangar bay and all Chris can think is how, if he lives, his wife is going to  _ kill _ him.

 

The thought almost makes him laugh.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're so sorry.

Amanda always loved Vulcan winters. They reminded her of spring on Earth. On this particular winter afternoon, she finds herself in the garden, checking on the progress of her plants.

 

Gardening has never been Amanda’s passion, but in her harsh desert home, she has come to find it almost therapeutic. There was something so emotional about watching life she tends flourish ad thrive. Something cathartic about forcing a bit of green against the barren sands.

 

That and replicators can never hold a candle to fresh vegetables.

 

There were pros and cons to trying to garden in a barren wasteland. On the one hand, Amanda can not remember when the last time she had to weed was. On the other, she had to water her little patch of green almost obsessively.

 

It was on such a trip to her garden that the ground jolted, like she had been standing on a matress someone else was jumping on. Her watering can flew from her hand and pour it’s contents out into the sand.

 

The ground beneath her began to steadily vibrate, low but steady, a foreign pressure in her heels.

 

She had to find Sarek.

  
  


*.*

  
  


When the calls for evacuation ring out, T’Pring is not surprised. The tremors that have been wreaking havoc on the architecture of Shi’Kahr have been increasing in their intensity at a rather steady and alarming rate.

 

Her first thought is not for her home, or her planet. Nor is it for her own safety. No, it is for Stonn. She had gone into the market today without him, and now, with planetary evacuations being held, there is no way to find each other. She could lose him today.

 

She is afraid.

 

But his mind reaches out to hers, a soothing calm she has known most of her life.

 

_ We will find one another off planet, wife. Go to the ships. Do not wait. _

 

T’Pring knows that her bondmate’s logic is sound, so she does not argue. However much she may wish to.

 

Instead, she gets on a shuttle. She straps herself in. And just as she is about to reach out and check his progress with evacuation, something snaps in the back of her mind. Like a taut wire cut down the middle, the torn edge whips back to strike her consciousness.

 

Stonn is dead.

 

T’Pring grieves, but does not cry. Not at the pain inside her mind, not at the sight of her world shrinking away from her, not even at the realization that this may very well be the end for her species.

 

No, T’Pring does not cry.

 

Stonn would not approve.

  
  


*.*

  
  


Sybok knows he is going to die. He accepts it, and moves on. Fear of death is illogical, he is Vulcan enough to know that.

 

He wonders if his bondmate will live, if their daughter will. He briefly considers he wasted something by staying detached from them, but Sybok figures it doesn't make sense to spend one's last living minutes in regret.

 

He does find the perfect use for his last moments. In his view at least.

 

One final message to Sam.

  
  


Sybok:

[Holofile attached: The.Psychological.Effects.And.Implications.Of.Interspecies.Marriage.Bonds.hdoc]

I thought you would like to read that dissertation I keep telling you about. It’s almost finished.

Our brothers might enjoy the read as well.

Pass it on to them for me?

Tell Aurie I said hello.

Don’t let Peter forget who his favorite uncle was.

 

Sam:

Sybok, what’s wrong?

You’re acting weird.

Why did you send me this? It’s not like you to show of an unfinished project.

Sybok?

Sybok, what do you mean,  _ was? _

Please, answer me.

Sybok, please answer.

Sybok?

  
  


*.*

  
  


Jim has always wanted to go skydiving.

 

Sure, the timing is shit, and there’s a strong possibility that he’s going to come out of this resembling a bug on a windshield more than a human being, but it’s not like he has much of a choice. After all, friends don’t let friends fall to their death alone.

 

So when Sulu goes over the edge of the drill, Jim doesn’t think, he just  _ moves. _

 

Ben totally owes him one.

 

James Sulu would make a good name for a kid.

  
  


*.*

  
  


The relief that Spock feels when Jim materializes on the transporter pad is greater than any he has felt in his life. That is not an exaggeration, merely fact.

 

However he does not have the time to let the relief wash over him properly, to sooth his mind. His planet is being devoured as his bondmate tries to catch his breath, and there is no time for any farewell or wishes of luck. 

 

There is certainly no time for the debate James tries to pull him into as he steps onto the transporter pad.

 

The bond is feeding him nothing but fear and concern. It is not advantageous to the calm he must achieve. But Spock does not shut Jim out. He promised.

 

He simply pushes back love and  _ I'm sorry _ and beams out.

  
  


*.*

  
  


Amanda is pleasantly surprised to see Spock, until he speaks.

 

“The planet has only minutes left, we must evacuate.”

 

All of her joy at being reunited with her son is washed away by a tide of grief. Grief for the planet that she has slowly come to call home. Grief for the friends she has managed to make on this isolated world. And most of all, grief for her husband and son, who are losing their entire world (literally) with no power to stop it.

 

Spock offers her his arm and she takes it gladly, letting him guide her from the chamber. Her little boy is so much taller than her now, she has to work to keep pace with him.

 

She can hear the crumbling of stone around her. Amanda does not know why, but she knows that Vulcan is shaking itself apart. She wonders if the vases T’Pau gave them as a wedding gift have shattered yet, or if they stand as untouched as their previous owner. She nearly giggles at her own silliness. It is the actual end of the world and she is so unprepared and yet, for one nearly delirious moment, she thinks of her  _ furniture  _ of all things.

 

Sarek has been right all along. Humans are insane.

 

But none of that matters so long as her family lives, which it seems they are going to do. Spock has successfully led them out of the mountainside, and is speaking hurriedly into his Starfleet issued communicator.

 

Amanda cannot help but take a few steps forward to the end of the plateau. In the distance, she can see the rock faces of other mountains bowing inwards. What was once the towering sight of Ski’Kahr to her left is a dull grey hill.

 

This province of Vulcan has not experienced any form of tectonic activity in centuries. None of those buildings were built to withstand an extended quake. Even if they had been, these tremors would topple even the most resilient buildings in Los Angeles.

 

She turns, looks back at her son. Spock is a statue of Vulcan stoicism in almost every way but his eyes. He has always had human eyes.

 

The light of transporter energy starts to weave around them, and the ground heaves. Suddenly there is nothing beneath her feet.

 

“ _ Mother! _ ”

 

Spock’s voice chases her down the mountain side. For an instant, there is nothing but the rush of wind, and then she can feel Sarek in her mind, a silent scream, a plea.

 

She does not know how to reassure him. How to tell him not to grieve excessively. She knows only that she loves him.

  
Her last thought is, strangely enough, about her garden.


	3. Chapter 3

Jim… Jim doesn’t know what happened. One minute, he’s awash in the Vulcan equivalent of a panic attack, and the next minute, he’s shut out completely. Amanda is dead, he knows that much, and probably Sybok and T’Pring and Stonn, too, but it’s Amanda that hurts the most, because of that, he’s one hundred percent  _ certain _ .

 

The next twenty minutes is a blur. Spock has a stupid plan, and he won’t listen, he won’t recognize  _ why _ it’s a stupid plan, because he  _ won’t let Jim in _ . He won’t look at the facts, at the statistics, at the gut feeling Jim is trying to shove in his direction via the handy mental connection they share, because— oh right,  _ Spock shut him out _ .

 

Spock said he’d never do that to him again.

 

Jim’s panic over that little fun fact is at least part of the reason that he’s not saying what needs to be said. His mind is overloaded, split between  _ oh God Amanda’s dead, Spock what are you fucking doing please stop, _ and  _ this is a stupid fucking plan and everybody fucking knows it. _

 

This is why he doesn’t really come to his senses until he’s actually, physically on an ice planet. He’s on fucking Hoth right now. And pretty damn stranded.

 

Does that make him Luke?

 

_ Fuck. _

  
  


*.*

  
  


Spock’s mind is, technically, in turmoil. However, as a Vulcan, he has a knack for— as Leonard refers to it— compartmentalizing. He’s just thrown Jim off the ship, which he knows is going to come back to bite him sooner rather than later, but the planet is relatively safe. At least he isn’t dragging his bondmate with him into what will most likely be their deaths. That’s one worry gone. His mother is dead, but… she died quickly. That could be considered a relief.

 

If he doesn’t focus completely on the buttons of the command chair, he’s going to fall apart. So takes a deep breath, focuses, and lets himself go numb.

 

He stays that way for about… half an hour, before a sudden terror— not his own— overtakes his senses. Spock gasps, just slightly, as Jim’s panic slides down his spine. His chest constricts, his face and fingers go cold, and the realization that  _ he is going to die _ settles in the forefront of his mind.

 

The last time Spock felt this, Jim was on Tarsus.

 

He opens his mouth to speak, to give the order that they are to turn around, to return to the orbit of Delta Vega, when just like that, all those feelings disappear— well, not disappear. They’re still there— the terror, the sense of impending doom— but they’re fading rapidly, replaced with confusion, relief, and… pain.

 

Carefully, he reaches out across the link.

 

_ Jim? Are you well? _

 

He is slammed with a wall of absolute Human rage, interspersed with bursts of memories of abandonment, blurry bathroom walls, foreign skin, and shaky, Human-red hands.

 

_ You’re not blocking me again _ .

 

Abruptly, it all cuts off, and Spock is alone in his head again.

 

_ Possibly forever _ , he thinks, massaging the sudden pain in his abdominal cavity.  _ Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so hasty _ .

 

That about sums up his entire relationship with Jim.

  
  


*.*

  
  


“James T. Kirk.”

 

Jim blinks up at the Vulcan.

 

“Sarek?” he says. “But you— I thought you were on the Enterprise.”

 

The Vulcan’s lip quirks, barely visible even if one is used to Vulcan expressions.

 

“I am not my father,” the Vulcan says.

 

Jim pushes himself to his feet.

 

“Then who are you?”

 

“I have been, and always shall be, your friend.”

 

“... Okay. That’s nice, I guess. But I don’t know you.”

 

“I am Spock.”

 

“... Bullshit.”

 

There goes an eyebrow. Amusement, definitely amusement.

 

“You can’t be Spock,” Jim feels the need to explain. “Because you, my apparent friend, have a century on Spock. You and I aren’t bonded. I’m not pissed at you. In fact, I’m feeling kind of friendly— you did save my life and all not a minute ago.”

 

Fake-Spock pauses at that.

 

“You are bonded?” he asks. “So young?”

 

“Yes. And I’m not young, I’m twenty-five, for Christ’s sake.”

 

“Fascinating.” Spock shakes his head. “It is unimportant. There is much you must know, Jim, and very little time to explain.”

 

Jim sees a hand rise to eye-level. He takes a step back.

 

“Whoa, wait a second here—”

 

“Please, Jim. This is the quickest way.”

 

Weird Vulcan on an abandoned ice planet (not abandoned, but close enough), telling Jim they have to meld… what could go wrong?

 

Jim stays still when he reaches again.

  
  


*.*

  
  


“Shit. Shit. Oh shit. What do we do?”

 

“You must return to the  _ Enterprise _ ,” Old Spock says simply. “You must take the captaincy and save Earth from Nero.”

 

“Yeah, obviously, except— now correct me if I’m wrong here, Spock, but we’re on an unnamed ice planet with no chance at getting beamed back aboard. Right?”

 

“The planet is actually referred to as Delta Vega.” If that isn’t an indicator that the guy isn’t bullshitting about being Spock, nothing is. “And there is a way to return to the ship. We must simply reach the Starfleet outpost—”

 

“Delta Vega? Oh good, Scotty’s here. He’ll think of something.” Jim pulls his hood over his head. “Which way?”

 

“You know Mr. Scott as well?”

 

“Of course! He’s going to be my Chief Engineer when Pike hands me the  _ Enterprise _ ,” Jim says. “Why, is that significant?”

 

“... No. Come, Jim. We have little time.”

  
  


*.*

  
  


“Somebody order a meatlover’s pizza with extra sausage?”

 

“I— Jim? What the hell are you doing here?”

 

Jim is lifted into a tight embrace— he’d forgotten how strong Scotty was.

 

“Hey Scotty, just thought I’d pop by and say hey, see how you and Keenser were doing,” Jim says as he’s set back down.

 

“Bullshit, what did you do?”

 

“Why is it always what did _ I  _ do?” Jim complains. “This one’s all on Spock— also, Scotty, Keenser, meet Spock From the Future. He’s pretty cool. I think I might trade in the young one for him.”

 

“Er… Nice to meet you, sir?”

 

“And you, Mr. Scott. Could you point us in the direction of your transporter rooms? We must make haste.”

 

“I— yes, of course.”

 

“You would not believe the shit that is going on up there, Scotty,” Jim says, throwing an arm over Scott’s shoulders. “The guy that killed my Dad’s back, and he blew up Vulcan, and Amanda’s dead, and— actually? Let’s not talk about that. How’s the family?”

  
  


*.*

  
  


“ _ Are you out of your Vulcan mind? _ ”

 

Over the course of the last few years, Spock has learned to differentiate between Dr. McCoy’s usual snappishness from true anger. This time it is anger— likely well-deserved.

 

“It is safer for him off-ship,” Spock says. “He is irrational, and when he is irrational I am unable to focus—”

 

“Damn right, he’s irrational, you damn hobgoblin— he just lost a Mom, too!”

 

Fury bubbles up Spock’s throat. He forces it down before speaking.

 

“What would you have me do?” he demands quietly. “Turn around? Attempt to return to Earth with limited shields and a damaged engine room?”

 

“I’ve yet to see a plan of Jim’s fall to shit after he’s decided it’ll work,” Leonard retorts. “Maybe if you’d listened instead of shutting him out— don’t think I didn’t catch that, you didn’t see him after you did it the first time, I know the signs— maybe I wouldn’t be contemplating dosing you with the Andorian flu and leaving you out to die!”

 

Leonard is serious, of course. He is prone to homicidal thoughts, particularly when he believes the safety of those he calls family is in jeopardy.

 

“He is safe,” Spock repeats. “He is far from the fight. He will live.”

 

“And what if we fucking don’t?” The vein in Leonard’s temple throbs painfully. “Who’s gonna go pick him up when the  _ Enterprise _ is another scrap heap floating through space? Who’s gonna know? Who’s gonna care? The Vulcans? Oh, wait.”

 

Spock works very hard to keep his expression neutral. Judging by the vindictive glint in Leonard’s bright eyes, he does not entirely succeed.

 

“We will not die,” Spock says firmly. “Jim will not die. He is safe.”

 

“Then what the hell happened on the bridge, huh? You looked like someone was kicking your puppy to death for a good five minutes, there.”

 

Concern has colored the Doctor’s voice. Concern for Jim and— oddly enough— for him.

 

“Spock, are you sure you’re okay?”

 

The Vulcan takes a deep, steadying breath.

 

“My mother is dead, Doctor,” he says simply. “I am as well as I can be.”

 

Judging by the look on the Doctor’s face, that is not the answer he wanted. Unlucky for him, it’s the only answer Spock can give.

 

“If that’s all, Doctor, you should return to your post.”

 

“Spock—”

 

He doesn’t want to continue this conversation. He turns on his heel and leaves.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Jim knows how to piss Spock off, how to  _ emotionally compromise _ him. Still, he’s got to put on a show— he wants to make it look like he’s lost control, not like he’s  _ cracked _ , after all. Jim’s still going to need a First Officer when this is all over.

 

And it would be nice to have his husband back. After counseling. Lots and _ lots  _ of relationship counseling.

 

So he talks shit about Amanda, tucking away the part of him that wants to cry deep into the darkest parts of his heart. To help ignore that particular voice, he opens the bond— Spock never replaced his walls after Jim broke through them the first time, trusting Jim’s cold shoulder to see him through the rest of the day. He throws wave after wave of memories from that one particular year, the year they pretend never happened, pouring every orgasm, every drunken cry, every beautiful boy, girl, or not otherwise specified being he found company with into a brutal attack on Spock’s brittle psyche. The Vulcan is caught unawares, crumbling against each vengeful thought until he snaps and tries to strangle—  _ strangle _ — Jim.

 

The things James does for the Federation.

 

Still, it gets him where he needs to be: in the Captain’s chair. Spock’s cut him off again, yes, but the plan worked. He’s Captain of the  _ Enterprise _ , and he’s going to put Nero’s head on a pike by the end of the shift, just for the irony. Nero took his Captain— twice, if you count George Kirk. He’s going to nail that bastard to the wall and frame it.

 

He’s a touch annoyed Old Spock wouldn’t come with him, even if he did imply some sort of apocalyptic, tear in the fabric of reality sort of implosion if he and regular Spock met. For all Spock says otherwise, he’s got a talent for hyperbole, sometimes worse than Bones.

 

“I hope you know what you’re doing,  _ Captain _ .” Uhura’s tone is biting, but that’s because she’s scared shitless. Her anxiety reveals itself through the clever use of bitchy comments. It could be worse, though— she could be  _ Bones. _

 

“Full speed ahead, Mr. Sulu,” he orders. “We’re going to Earth.”

 

“Yes, Captain.”

 

They hit warp, and for a second, everything is calm. That’s a good thing, because Jim needs to have himself a good old-fashioned think.

 

And maybe apologize to Spock. And Sarek.

  
  


*.*

  
  


Gaila has had better days. That being said, she’s not dead, which is always a plus. She was pretty sure she was going to die this time around. It’s good to be proven wrong, every now and again.

 

The evacuation shuttle is… intense. The Vulcans have just lost their home planet, after all, and while they’re not as emotive as most species, the silence is eerie. Their grief hangs thick in the air, only vocalized by the youngest of their group, who have not completed their training.

 

She hopes Sarek and Lady Amanda got out. She hopes Sybok is safe. She hopes T’Pring and Stonn—

 

Gaila looks down. She will not cry, not in front of the Vulcans. They have lost more than she will ever understand. Her tears are not needed.

 

A thin, cold hand wraps around her wrist and squeezes. She looks up and—

 

“T’Pring!”

 

Gaila’s on her feet in a moment, throwing her arms around T’Pring’s thin shoulders.

 

“You’re alive, oh fuck, you’re  _ alive _ .”

 

“I am,” T’Pring agrees.

 

Gaila tucks her nose into her loose hair, unwilling to let go. T’Pring doesn’t seem much better.

 

“Where’s Stonn?” she whispers.

 

“Dead.”

 

Gaila’s grip tightens.

 

“Fuck.”

 

“Yes.” T’Pring finally pulls away, just enough so they can face each other. “While I am glad to see you well, I am confused as to how you managed to come aboard this ship.”

 

“... Escape pod,” Gaila says. “My ship— it’s gone.”

 

T’Pring bows her head.

 

“I grieve with thee,” she murmurs.

 

Gaila takes a deep, steadying breath.

 

“And I with thee,” she says. “I’m sorry about Stonn.”

 

T’Pring’s face doesn’t move.

 

“So am I.”

  
  


*.*

  
  


Jim’s plan works. They get Pike back.

 

_ They get Pike back _ .

 

Jim can’t breathe.

 

He can’t go see him right away. He has to contact the remains of the fleet, inform them of Nero’s defeat and give his reports, he has to make sure his ship isn’t fucking  _ broken _ , he has to— he has to— he has to do a lot of shit. Autopilot, sign forms, sound formal, ‘I’m-the-Captain-this-is-my-job’ duties that he really doesn’t wanna do right now, because Pike’s in Bones’ Sickbay, probably fighting for his life.

 

It takes three hours, but the moment he’s off-duty, Jim’s off, halfway to Sickbay before anyone— primarily  _ Spock _ — can say a word.

 

“Jim.” Bones is a gift. An angry, no-nonsense gift, who always knows exactly what Jim needs and wants. “He’s just out of surgery. No immediate danger, they did a number on his spine. Paralysis is a very real possibility.”

 

“Is he awake?”

 

“He is,” Leonard says. “But he won’t be for long. He’s tired, Jim, and drugged to the gills.”

 

“I just need—”

 

“I know. Go.”

 

Christopher’s been put aside in a private room, surrounded by the steady beep of machines and the white sterility of Sickbay. He can’t turn his head— everything’s locked tight in a prison of a body-binder— but he manages a small, pained smile when he catches sight of Jim.

 

“Never thought I’d see the day you’d walk into Sickbay willing,” he rasps.

 

Jim snorts.

 

“What do you mean? I’m here to bust you out, Captain.”

 

Pike huffs a laugh, then winces.

 

“Probably not the best idea, Jimmy,” he admits after a moment. “I’m a little… I’m a little sore, you know?”

 

“Yeah, I guess.” Jim takes a step closer. “Tomorrow, then?”

 

“Maybe.” Pike pauses. “Where’s Spock?”

 

“In the doghouse.” Jim rubs absently at the dried blood in his eyebrow. “He blocked me out. Again.”

 

“Why?”

 

“His… Lady Amanda’s dead.”

 

Pike closes his eyes.

 

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

 

“So am I.” Jim sighs. “I shouldn’t be angry, I know— he’d just lost his Mom, he wasn’t thinking clearly— but… he promised he’d never…”

 

“There’s a lot going on,” Pike says softly. “I get it, kid. You’re pissed.”

 

Jim sighs.

 

“I’m a lot of things.”

 

Chris gets that.

 

“Burdens of the Captaincy,” he says lightly. “You still want the job?”

 

The kid huffs.

 

“I saved you, the Vulcan elders, and all of Earth,” he says. “I’m made for this shit.”

 

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

 

“She taught me everything I know.”

 

“I’m not sure if you’re talking about Winona or Number One,” Pike mutters. “Have you called her yet? Number One?”

 

Jim shakes his head.

 

“You were my first stop after I finished my shift,” he says. “I wanted to see you before I called her.”

 

“Go,” Chris orders. “Call her. Call your Mother. Call Sam, too.”

 

“Why Sam?”

 

“Jim, Sybok was probably on-planet.”

 

Jim winces.

 

“I— yeah.”

 

“I’m sure he’d like to know his brother’s not dead,” Chris adds. “But that’s just me.”

 

“... Yeah. You’re probably right.” Jim runs a nervous hand through his hair. “Can I call Mom? Are you sure she wasn’t…”

 

“No. She’s been on the  _ Colorado _ the last year and a half— they don’t get called for this kind of thing, you know that.” The  _ Colorado _ is a ship meant for terraforming. Chris still doesn’t know what she did to piss Archer off.

 

“Right. Okay. So, Number One, Mom, Sam. In that order,” Jim says, nodding sharply. “Will do.”

 

“And then,” Pike adds. “Go talk to Spock. He’s hurting.”

 

"… Sure thing, Chris."

  
  


*.*

  
  


Syruk doesn’t know why Winona suddenly gets a call from Jim after near a year of radio silence, but whatever it is, Winona comes back an hour later and puts her fist through the wall.

 

None of the other Vulcans even glance over at the emotional display. They’re a normal occurrence— after all, this isn’t even the first time today she’s destroyed something out of anger.

 

Syruk knows something’s off about this particular bout of rage, however. Winona’s usually more careful not to hurt herself when she decides to crush something.

 

“What has happened?” he asks, taking her hand. She’s broken a knuckle, he can tell already, cuts sluggishly oozing brilliant crimson blood.

 

“Vulcan’s been destroyed,” she says, callous in her grief. “Lady Amanda’s dead. Jim called to tell me.”

 

Syruk stiffens, eyes glued to her fingers.

 

“The Captain’ll make an announcement soon, I’m sure,” she says. “But he’s probably forgotten about the fact that Engineering is full of Vulcans— he doesn’t pay any fucking attention to us unless something’s broken, Syruk, I swear—”

 

Syruk’s control has slipped— he can tell by the way she goes silent, blue eyes searching his face for… something.

 

“Syruk? Syruk, it’s okay— no, that was stupid, it isn’t okay. But Jim says he saved the elders, at least—”

 

“That is good,” he whispers. “That gives Vulcan a chance to rebuild. That is good.”

 

“You’re in shock,” she realizes. “Syruk, you’re in shock.”

 

“It seems I have spent too much time among Humans, if you can tell as much.”

 

“You’re also holding my hand, so…”

 

Syruk lets go, getting to his feet.

 

“You must go to Sickbay,” he says, straightening. “I will share the news with the others.”

 

“Syruk—”

 

“Winona.”

 

Her lips pinch.

 

“I’m still your superior, you know.”

 

“Yes. However, in this moment, I believe it would be prudent for you to trust in my judgement. Leave us, Winona. We will still be here when you return.”

 

Winona nods, biting her lip thoughtfully.

 

“You are thinking. There is no thought required in this moment.”

 

“No, I know— I was thinking about something else.”

 

Syruk fights the urge to close his eyes. Winona tries his patience in ways he cannot ever admit outside of the presence of the engineering crew.

 

“What are you thinking of, Winona?”

 

She shakes her head.

 

“I’ll tell you later,” she says. “It’s inappropriate, I think, given the stress you’re under—”

 

“Winona. I have grown used to your thought processes. What are you thinking of?”

 

“I just… No. I’m going to Sickbay. Go and tell the others. I’ll be back in an hour, okay?” And with that, she turns on her heel and leaves him.

 

Alone.

  
  


*.*

  
  
  


"Sam? Sammy, what’s wrong?"

 

Sam swallows, hard.

 

"Is… Pete in bed?"

 

"I— yeah, Sam, he’s asleep. What’s wrong?"

 

Aurie sounds scared. Of course she is— Sam’s a pretty easy-going guy. He doesn’t emote the way his Mother and Jim feel the need to. He keeps it to himself.

 

"… You know how Sybok sent me—" his voice breaks. He clears his throat and starts again. "You know how Sybok messaged me? Sent me his research?"

 

"Of course. Why? What’s happened?"

 

"Jim just called." Sam takes a deep breath. "Vulcan’s been attacked. Was attacked. Vulcan imploded. There’s no Vulcan anymore."

 

Aurie goes very still.

 

"Sammy," she says carefully. "What do you mean, Vulcan _ imploded _ ?"

 

"It’s gone. Poof." Sam sit back. "Casualties number in the millions. Billions, I guess, it’s a fucking planet. But yeah. Jim is pretty certain Sybok’s dead."

 

"Shit.  _ Shit _ ."

 

"Lady Amanda’s dead, too," Sam adds. "Fell to her death during evacuation, can you believe that? She was a good woman."

 

"So… Sarek?"

 

"He’s alive. Jim’s not sure he’s okay, exactly, but he’s alive, on the Enterprise. Which Jim is captaining, by the way. Pike got tortured. Everybody got fucked up, Aurie. It’s all fucked up."

 

There’s nothing to say to that, Aurie knows. So she does the practical thing and sits next to Sam, wrapping her arms around his neck.

 

"I’ll book passage to Earth tomorrow morning," she says. "You’ll be needed."

 

"I don’t wanna go, Aurie."

 

"Since when does a Kirk get everything they want?"

 

"Good point."

  
  
*.*


	5. Chapter 5

“Captain? May I come in?”

 

Jim sighs.

 

“Yeah, Spock. Come on.”

 

Jim’s still in engineering quarters. He doesn’t mind, calmed by the gentle hum of the warp core, working steadily just through the wall.

 

He sits up when Spock enters, back to the wall, a glass of something Scotty snuck aboard under his coat cupped in his fingers.

 

“What’s up?”

 

Spock stands at attention in front of him, hands clasped behind his back.

 

“The ship is running smoothly despite notable damage in the Engine Room and throughout the ship,” he says. “We are preparing to begin beaming down non-essential crew.”

 

“Oh. That’s good.”

 

“Yes, Captain.”

 

There’s a pause.

 

“Spock, is there anything else?”

 

Spock hesitates.

 

“You were angry,” he begins carefully. “That I kept you from my mind immediately after the death of my mother.”

 

“I still am, kinda,” Jim agrees. “It’s sort of fizzling thanks to Chris not dying and Scotty’s frankly  _ fantastic _ homebrew.”

 

Spock arches an eyebrow.

 

“I did not want you to experience what I experienced,” he says. “Not in that moment. It was… painful.”

 

“I get that. But you promised.”

 

“Technically, I did nothing of the sort.”

 

“Semantics.”

 

“Fact.”

 

“I fucking hate you.”

 

“ _ James. _ ”

 

Spock sits beside him. Jim can’t help himself, can’t help the way he leans instinctively into Spock’s side, sighing as a hand settles on the small of his back and begins to rub soothing circles into the bare flesh it finds there.

 

“I apologize,” Spock says after a moment. “You understand my reasoning, however.”

 

“I do.”

 

They both go quiet after that. There’s nothing but the occasional sip of Jim’s drink and the buzz of the engines.

 

Jim’ll take it.

  
  


*.*

  
  


The house is unchanged, even if the people piling in through the front door are. It’s weird, how empty campus seems. Or— maybe it wouldn’t be so weird if it weren’t in the back of Jim’s mind that everybody’s fucking dead.

 

Spock makes a beeline for the kitchen, intending to head everyone off with food before they sink into their mourning. A trick that has worked in the past for far less grievous wounds. But as everyone slinks past him, either to their bedrooms or to the living area, he realizes it will not be an efficient ploy in this regard.

 

James walks up behind him, wraps his arms around his waist, and lets his forehead rest upon the back of Spock’s shoulder.

 

“Are you well?”

 

There is a mirthless chuckle. “Just peachy. I’m going to bed. Come with me?”

 

Spock turns, tilts his head in question. 

 

“You are still angry with me. And far to exhausted for ‘make-up sex.’”

 

“ _ Don’t you fucking dare!” _ Doctor McCoy supplies from the other room. Apparently his appallment at the concept is stronger than his exhaustion. Interesting.

 

“Not for that.” Jim huffs out a small, but genuine laugh before falling somber again. “I just want… I need…”

 

“Parted from me —”

 

“—and never parted.”

 

Spock grabs his bondmate by the elbow, leads him up the stairs and into bed. It is only once they’re already beneath the covers does he realize that they are still in uniform.

 

It’s almost amusing.

 

Jim turns into him, and the next thing Spock knows he’s being used as a pillow. But it’s sweet and it’s innocent, and he can feel Jim’s sadness, but the anger is fading.

 

It’s almost like he’s seventeen again. So much so that for a moment, just one heartbreaking moment, Spock can imagine them back in his room, on Vulcan. That Gaila is on Jim’s other side. That his mother in in the kitchen making breakfast. Sybok will come crashing in at any moment, making some new but routinely odd request.

 

The idea is disturbingly comforting.

 

“A word from the wise?” Jim interrupts his daydream, voice heavy with the beginning grip of sleep. “The longer you forget what happened, the more it’ll hurt when you remember.”

 

Spock raises an eyebrow in question.

 

“Trust me. I’m speaking from experience here.”

 

“Very well.”

 

He kisses the top of James’ hair, closes his eyes. Sleep comes surprisingly easy.

  
  


*.*

  
  


It’s almost 0300 when Hikaru lets himself into Ben’s apartment. He kind of expected to find the place dark, and his boyfriend asleep, but the he was, sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee clutched in his hands.

 

“Hey.”

 

“You’re awake?”

 

“I was waiting up for you. Saw… on the news.”

 

Sulu nods, and collapses next to him on the couch. Steals a sip of Ben’s coffee, and immediately regrets it. It’s nearly room temperature.

 

“Let’s get married.”

 

“Is this post disaster relationship acceleration?”

 

Hikaru grins. “You bet.”

 

“Okay.” Ben returns the smile, but it is far less manic. “But no one more than 6 months pregnant is allowed to attend.”

 

“Deal.”

  
  


*.*

  
  


It take Gaila nearly a week to get her and T’Pring to Earth. The remnants of the Vulcan fleet aren’t really keen on letting other ships approach, and there’s so much chaos. Perfectly filed, organised, and well-behaved chaos.

 

The adults all seem a little shell-shocked. Like they’ve all received a collective slap across the face. Some of the children are angry, picking fights and talking back to their parents. It’s only those at the extremes, the very young, and the very old, who Gaila ever sees cry.

 

She doesn’t think that’s healthy for them. Psychologically. As a species, that is.

 

But it is not her place to question their stoicism. So two days after her rescue, she tells T’Pring she is going to leave.

 

“Where shall you go?”

 

“Earth. Home.” Gaila offers a weak smile. “To my family if I still have one.”

 

“The Enterprise survived. It saved Earth.” T’Pring makes it sound like that was the only information she needed.

 

“Yes, and Jim’s Captain.” She frowns. “But I haven’t heard about anyone else, and I’m _ worried _ , and as grateful as I am, I cannot spend much longer here without go insane from all the stress.”

 

“Very well. I shall accompany you.”

 

Gaila knows T’Pring well enough to know not to argue.

 

So after a week of ship jumping and space travel, Gaila finally sets foot on the streets of San Francisco, a place she had thought (for a few horrifying hours) that she would never see again.

  
  
  
*.*


	6. Chapter 6

Sarek is one of the last of the Vulcans, and one of the first to be discharged after beaming down to Earth. That is why he is at the landing point, prepared to greet the newly arrived Vulcans and direct them to their temporary quarters. Among the Vulcans, there are eighty-six Starfleet crewmembers, plucked from the wreckage of their starships and saved from a painful— albeit quick— death.

 

That does not mean he is prepared for the familiar blur of green and red that darts through the crowd and tackles him with the full force of relief, sorrow, and one hundred and forty-five pounds of Orion flesh.

 

“Sarek!”

 

It is Gaila, dressed in a borrowed Vulcan gown and weeping openly into the front of his robes. Her fingers are clenched tightly into fabric, arms wrapped around his shoulders in an embrace that grows more uncomfortable by the second.

 

He hesitates, then pats her awkwardly on the back before carefully disentangling himself from her grasp.

 

“It is good to see you did not perish,” he says. “Jim will be pleased.”

 

She laughs wetly.

 

“He’s probably a wreck without me,” she says.

 

“He did not handle it well upon realizing that the _ Farragut _ was lost.” He’s still not handling her disappearance well, but Sarek assumes Gaila knows that much without him saying so.

 

She wipes her face with the back of her sleeve.

 

“Where’s Lady Amanda?” she asks. “Sybok, did he make it?”

 

Sarek’s heart constricts. His expression does not waver.

 

“I am the sole survivor of those of us who resided on Vulcan,” he tells her.

 

Gaila bows her head, one hand pressed over her heart.

 

“I… I grieve with thee,” she whispers.

 

“And I with thee,” Sarek responds. “I know you grieve as well.”

 

Gaila takes a deep, steadying breath, then straightens.

 

“T’Pring’s here,” she says. “I figured she could crash with me at the house— everyone’s at the house, right?”

 

Sarek inclines his head.

 

“The crew has been unwilling to leave the safety of the residence,” he says. “Miss Uhura has remarked more than once on the unusual stillness of the dormitories.”

 

“... Oh.”

 

“Ambassador.” T’Pring appears at Gaila’s shoulder. “It is good to see you are well.”

 

“And you.” Her bondmate is not with her. Stonn must have perished in the attack. “Gaila will take you to Spock’s home. I will inform the necessary authorities where you will be staying.”

 

T’Pring nods graciously and looks to Gaila.

 

“You must lead me,” she says. “I do not know the way.”

 

“Yeah, of course.” Gaila looks at Sarek, eyes wet. “Will we see you soon, Sarek?”

 

“I will visit when my tasks here are complete,” he tells her. “Should it grow late, I will come for breakfast.”

 

Gaila nods.

 

“... Good,” she says. “I’ll see you soon, Sarek.”

 

“Indeed, Gaila. T’Pring.”

 

Gaila looks like she wants to hug him. Luckily, she doesn’t, turning instead to T’Pring.

 

“C’mon. It’s this way.”

 

Sarek doesn’t watch them go.

 

He has work to do.

  
  


*.*

  
  


Uhura recognizes that Jim’s hurting. He’s just lost a sister, a brother-in-law, a mother-in-law, and nearly lost his adoptive dad all in one fell swoop. That being said, she now kind of gets why Vulcans get so annoyed with Humans.

 

When Jim emotes, everyone feels it. That’s always been the case. It’s never been this bad, however— his depression hangs in the air like damp. She keeps having to fight the need to check the ceilings for mold.

 

She misses Gaila too— Gaila’s her best friend, closest confidante, nearly a sister in all the ways that matter. She gets pain, she gets grief. Unfortunately, Jim doesn’t grieve like normal people. Like in everything else, he takes it to an extreme.

 

She doesn’t think she’s heard him talk since that first day back in the house.

 

Hikaru and Ben are over, curled up together on the smaller couch with Chekov thrown over their lap. Scotty’s sprawled out on the patch of floor he claimed as his (monogrammed sleeping bag and all), doodling potential engine redesigns for the _ Enterprise _ , because they’re definitely getting her. Jim decided that long before any of them were around to have a say in the matter.

 

Christine Chapel— one of Leonard’s nurses, and possible sex friend— is curled up into his side on the other end of Uhura’s couch. Uhura doesn’t know her very well— Leonard did the smart thing and kept her far from Jim and his crazy— but that doesn’t matter. Christine is nice enough, and the shadows in her eyes when Leonard brought her home from the dorms said enough.

 

Jim and Spock are upstairs. They’ve been upstairs for the better part of the last week.

 

They’re not there when the familiar sounds of the keycode are punched into the door and Gaila walks in, tailed by T’Pring, absent one bondmate.

 

Uhura assumes he’s dead. She can’t imagine a Vulcan would let their bondmate out of their sight after… after. Spock certainly hasn’t.

 

The chaos is instantaneous. Uhura’s across the room before she can think, arms wrapped around the Orion and face pressed into curly red hair.

 

“Shit, shit, oh shit.”

 

Four years of linguistics, syntax, and xenoculture, and that’s all she can says. Ladies and gentlemen, Chief Communications Officer Nyota Uhura.

 

Leonard’s shouting for Jim. The others are crowding behind her— Sulu, Ben, Chekov— but she doesn’t care, because,  _ Gaila _ . Gaila, Gaila,  _ Gaila _ .

 

“Are you okay?” she manages.

 

“I’m fine, Nyota. Really.” Still, Gaila takes her time letting go. Uhura lets it happen. She’s not the only one who’s been grieving.

 

“T’Pring,” she greets softly. “You look well.”

 

“Thank you.” T’Pring nods carefully. “You look…” She trails off. “You look healthy.”

 

Uhura can’t help it. She laughs.

 

“That’s all I can hope for,” she says. “Come on, Scotty was making tea—”

 

Everything goes quiet, all of a sudden. Uhura turns to see Jim for the first time in… six days?

 

He looks like shit, hair shiny with grease and a week’s worth of fur on his cheeks. His eyes burn a path through the crowd, his gait careful and stiff. He stops right in front of her, arms crossed.

 

Gaila stares at him. He stares at Gaila.

 

Then he grins.

 

“Figures it’d take more than a crazy old Romulan to kill your sorry ass,” he says, opening his arms to hug her.

 

“You figured right,” she says, curling into him. “Jesus, you smell like a garbage can.”

 

“You make me think you’re dead, and that’s all you have to say?”

 

“Payback,” she says. “For Corsina III. And Brex XI. And—”

 

“I get it, I get it. Fuck, Gaila, you scared me.”

 

“... Yeah.”

 

“You need to see Pike.”

 

“Where is he?”

 

“Hospital. Don’t worry, he’s fine. Bones is taking care of him.”

 

“Worst patient I’ve ever had,” Leonard declares. “And I’ve had Jim.”

 

Gaila laughs. Uhura feels the tension seep out of the room, relaxing properly for the first time since… everything.

 

She glances at T’Pring.

 

“So, tea?” she prompts.

 

“Tea would be lovely,” she agrees.

 

“Hey, don’t you think you’re getting away without a hug,” Jim says, releasing Gaila and turning his focus completely to T’Pring.

 

T’Pring peers impassively down her nose at him.

 

“Not until you have washed,” she says dismissively. “Gaila is correct. Your odor is offensive. I do not know how Spock has been able to stand it.”

 

Jim winks.

 

“He thinks it’s sexy.”

 

Uhura snorts.

 

Yeah. They’ll be fine. All of them.

  
  


*.*

  
  


“You’re hiding something.”

 

“What makes you say that, Christopher?”

 

Pike huffs.

 

“I know you,” he says. “There’s something you’re not telling me. Something big.”

 

Number One arches an eyebrow.

 

“I am not hiding anything,” she says. “I was simply waiting until you were stronger.”

 

Chris glares.

 

“Tell me.”

 

“Dr. McCoy said it would be better to wait. He does not wish me to cause unnecessary stress.”

 

“Number One.”

 

Well, he asked for it.

 

“I have discovered the sex of the baby,” she says.

 

Chris softens immediately.

 

“Really?” he asks. “Do… What are we having?”

 

“A boy,” she says.

 

“A boy,” he says wonderingly. “I’m going… a little boy, really?”

 

“And a girl.”

 

“A— wait, what are… are we gonna have a son or a daughter?”

 

“Both,” she says simply. “I am pregnant with twins, according to the Doctor’s most recent scans.”

 

Chris sits back, already imagining the potential disaster that two Number One copies will bring— because he knows his kids won’t be like him. He knows he’s not the dominant personality in this.

  
Number One lets him. For all the worry he caused her? He deserves it.


	7. Epilogue

Christopher Pike has been dreading this day for nine years.

 

Ever since James Tiberius Kirk declared his desire to become a starship captain, Chris knew that his day of reckoning would come. If he were to be honest with himself, he's probably felt it coming since the kid was four. Even if it's not the way he originally pictured it.

 

The chair is a surprise.

 

Yet here he is, in one of the formal auditoriums at Starfleet Command, paying the piper and _personally_ surrendering control of the _Enterprise_ to the most beautifully insane person he's ever had the pleasure to meet. The brass makes a big show about giving Jim a pile of medals and commendations. The poor kid, he's wearing his dress uniform for the first time and it's already cluttered.

 

“I relieve you, sir.”

 

And there's that damn mischievous smirk of his.

 

“I am relieved.”

 

Chris means it, too. That's the worst part. He's so damn relieved that this kid - this crazy kid, managed to grow up into a halfway decent person. It might be a tad narcissistic of him to take credit. It was more his wife than anyone else. Winona helped. A bit.

 

Maybe it was Spock. Maybe the Vulcan was a mitigating influence. Perhaps Gaila managed to force enough compassion into him. Maybe it was the doctor, who put him back together after the boy was so thoroughly torn apart.

 

There is always the possibility that this man had been inside the child Pike helped raise all along.

 

In the end, it didn't matter. However it happened, James was not only the most promising new officer in the Fleet, but a good man. Chris can't help but be proud to consider him his son.

 

They grow up so fast. He'll try to pay more attention the second time around. Or else he'll blink and one of the twins will be relieving Jim of _his_ command.

  
And wouldn't that be beautiful?

 

 

*.*

 

 

Jim is a starship captain. Spock is his First Officer. Bones is his grumpy CMO. He's got a hot (and he means hot) Communications Officer that can kick ass in eighteen different languages, a boy genius of a helmsman that looks like he keeps a blankie in his bunk, a swordsman for a navigator, a Scotsman for a Chief Engineer (and drinking buddy), and a badass Orion to keep him in line. He couldn't have scripted this shit if he tried— and he did.

They're gonna be big damn heroes. He's decided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short piece to round out an epic. While we plan to continue the universe as a whole, this is the end of the main story arc. There will occasionally be updates in the Doubt The Stars 'verse, along with the Unofficial Manual, but yeah. This is everything we planned. It's over. Done. Go home.
> 
> For everybody that's been following this since we started writing, we're happy you stuck to the end. Newcomers who just binged? We're very sorry. We were wringing out every giggle, gasp, and tear we could.
> 
> Questions? Comments? Concerns? Are you curious about what was happening while another thing was happening? Hit us up on tumblr:  
>  [not-freyja](https://not-freyja.tumblr.com) and [straight-outta-hobbiton](https://straight-outta-hobbiton.tumblr.com) on Tumblr.
> 
> Edit: we used to think of this as the end. How young and foolish we were. There is so much more fic.

**Author's Note:**

> Our babies are all grown up, off saving the Federation!
> 
> The playlist for this fic can be found [here.](https://8tracks.com/starhobbit/all-quiet-over-vulcan-space#smart_id=dj:16203706&play=1)
> 
> Follow [not-freyja](https://not-freyja.tumblr.com) and [straight-outta-hobbiton](https://straight-outta-hobbiton.tumblr.com) on Tumblr.


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